


Bridge City, Whiskey River

by Layneee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Dean and Cas Embarrassing Sam, Gay Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Business Ethics, Pacific Northwest, Portland Oregon, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Whiskey & Scotch, but they're cool with it, hiatus beards, mentions of Pokemon Go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-12-24 17:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12017388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layneee/pseuds/Layneee
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are the co-owners of Winchester Brother's Distillery, the newest and most popular distillery in Portland. They're known for their small batch, craft whiskeys. But when they want their company to grow, Sam knows they can't do it on their own. Dean, on the other hand, doesn't want to be a "sellout."Enter Castiel with Angelic Liqueur and Spirits.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops, my fingers slipped. 
> 
> But seriously, this little bug won't get out of my brain, so I decided to write it down. Mostly because I'm upset that my wonderful state is burning, and I want to picture it beautiful again.

* * *

  _Meet the Winchester Brothers: Portland’s Favorite Distillers_

By: Aaron Bass

 

          As many of you know, we Portlanders appreciate a good meal. With that meal we require an equally good drink. And if you’ve been out anywhere in the last year, you have definitely noticed the name ‘Winchester’ attached to many of those lovely libations. That is because Winchester Brothers Distillery has exploded as the city topmost provider of quality spirits. I was lucky enough to sit down with Sam Winchester, one of the brains behind the operation.

 

**Aaron Bass: So, Sam. How do you feel about your quick ascent to the top? Were you surprised?**

_Sam Winchester: (laughs) Yeah, definitely. We weren’t expecting it at all. Not to say we aren’t enjoying it, though._

**AB: So where did you get your start? If you don’t mind my asking.**

_SW: No, it’s not much of a story. My brother and I moved to Portland with our dad when we were teens. And at first we were living with our Uncle Bobby. And Bobby had an old still in his garage. Dean was really into it. He was always watching Bobby, trying to memorize what he was doing. (laughs) I’m pretty sure his first batch burned something awful, considering how Dad and Bobby had to choke it down._

**AB: Well you’ve come a long way since then. It sounds like your brother always  wanted to get into distilling. But what about you? Did you always see yourself owning a distillery?**

_SW: Oh no! I actually went into law, and even passed the bar and was ready to start practicing before I changed my mind. Dean and I had always been close, and I realized how much of my family I would miss working seventy hours a week in some firm. So I went back to Portland State, and got my degree in business. Best decision I’ve ever made._

**AB: It sounds like family is really important to both you and your brother. Would you say that carries over into your business?**

_SW: Absolutely! We have a small crew here; we have about thirty employees or so made up of distillers, researchers, accounts, and even a few glassblowers. And we like to make sure that they all know how important they are to the business._

**AB: Did you say glassblowers?**

_SW: Yup, glassblowers. Dean was pretty insistent that we had to make our product unique, so we decided to make each bottle by hand. Benny Lafitte and Joanna Harvelle-Lafitte, our master glassblowers, and their team deserve all the praise for what they can do. It’s incredible to see._

**AB: Wow. That is a pretty impressive feat. I’d love to be able to see them work. So moving forward, what can we expect from Winchester Brother’s Distillery?**

_SW: We have some things in the works. We are supplying all over Portland right now, and are expanding to more of Oregon soon. But we want to eventually be able to distribute to all of the pacific northwest._

**AB: Not farther?**

_SW: Maybe eventually._

**AB: Well I, for one, and happy to call Winchester Brother’s Whiskey a Portland staple. Now final question, what is your favorite drink?**

_SW: Oh that’s easy. I can never pass up a couple fingers of the Singer Reserve. I honestly think it’ll go down as my brother’s finest accomplishment. Though he would never be that boastful._

**AB: I would have to agree with you there. That is quite a phenomenal drink.**

 

          After the interview Sam took me on a tour of the distillery and I got to see where the magic happened, so to speak. Unfortunately, I was unable to meet the illustrious Dean Winchester, as he was on a run when I stopped by. But I was able to see the glassblowers in their element as they worked to create Winchester Brother’s iconic teardrop bottle. And Sam allowed me to have a taste of the Singer Reserve directly from the aged oak barrel, and let me tell you, it was worth the years it took me to get my journalism degree.

          Whether you enjoy premium whiskey or not, it’s clear that there are good things ahead for the Winchester Brothers.

* * *

Sam threw the _Willamette Weekly_ article onto his desk; his own face smiled back at him. Whatever Dean had to say, the article was _great_ for their business. Though to be fair, Dean was more upset for Sam’s reason behind wanting the article in the first place.

They had agreed that they wanted to further their distribution, but disagreed on the best way to do that. Dean thought they could do it on their own; hire one sales rep that could cover northern Washington and possibly Idaho, and another for California and Nevada, hire more blowers to handle the increase in sale, and hire drivers to deliver. Sam knew that just wasn’t going to work. They were stretched thin as it was, and their product only covered a hundred square mile radius from their distillery. There was no way their little operation could handle that much more.

So Sam, not entirely behind Dean’s back, sent out emails to a number of the larger distributors in the western states, so see if they’d like to take their little distillery on. He made sure to CC his older brother. It was Dean’s fault that he never checked his email.

When Angelic Liqueur and Spirits responded to their S.O.S, it was like a gift from God (pun intended). Dean just didn’t see it that way. (“We’re not sellouts, Sammy!”)

Angelic was sending a representative to assess the company and see if it was worth putting money into. Hence the article. The distillery already had the customer loyalty, but it never hurt to have that in writing. Sam looked away from the newspaper and back to his computer.

 

> To: Sam Winchester (swinchester@WBDistillers.com)  
>  CC: Dean Winchester ( dwinchester@WBDistillers.com )  
>  From: Balthazar Milton (bazzybazzybazzy@AngelicBooze.com)
> 
> Subject: We’re sending you a present!
> 
> Hello Sam,
> 
> I just thought I would give you a heads up that we’re sending our rep up your way to get the ball rolling. Cassy should be landing tonight, sorry for the late notice , and will be by the plant tomorrow morning bright and early. Hopefully everything goes swimmingly.
> 
> Ta ta for now, 
> 
> Baz

 

Sam groaned. Dean was not going to be happy about this. He had hoped to get a better heads up so he could warm his brother up to the idea of someone coming in to asses the company.

Whether he wanted to or not, he had to go talk to his brother. And Sam knew exactly where he would be.

* * *

The glassblowing tent was always hot. When you were inside it was impossible to focus on anything other than your own breath, or the sweat that drips down your back.

Which made it the perfect place for Dean to ignore his idiot brother.

He was a little peeved when Sam first sent out those emails, but now? He was pissed. The distillery was like his baby, and he didn’t want to see it fall into the hands of some corporate douche-nozzle. Would they make sure that his employees were taken care of? Would they uphold the same standard for the booze that Dean did?

He didn’t think so. These cash cows only care about making a profit, regardless of how good their intentions seem.

“Dean!” Sam yelled over the sound of the furnace. Dean ignored him. “Don’t be a child, Dean. I know you can hear me.”

“What?” Dean yelled, faking obliviousness.

All of a sudden Sam’s hulking figure was standing right in front of him. “You know every time you come down here and throw a bitch fit, Benny has to throw away every ‘bottle’ you try to make?”

Dean looked down at the blowing rod in his hand. “Shut up. I’m great at this.” A voice scoffed behind him, and Dean turned to glare at Jo over his shoulder. “You shut your mouth!”

“Dean, can we talk? Please?” Dean didn’t turn around because he could practically _hear_ the puppy eyes. “I know you saw the email.”

“Yeah? So what?” Dean asked.

“So you know that someone from Angelic is coming tomorrow,” Sam said as he stepped closer, his voice dropping low. Dean imagined Jo was giving them both odd looks, considering Sam was the most obvious secret-teller. “I’ll deal with them, okay? The email said they’d be here early, so just come in at noon, or something, and by that time I’ll have a better idea of what they want.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I would be pissed that you seem to think I can’t be a professional, but whatever. I’d be an idiot to pass up a chance to sleep in.” He placed the blowing rod back in it’s stand, and pulled off the thick leather gloves he was wearing. “I’m gonna head out. I want a drink.”

He waved to the blowers working in the tent and dragged his brother out with him. “Sam, you know I’m not totally against this, right? I just need to know they’ll have some integrity with our company. If this Cassy chick can prove that then I’ll be on board.”

“I know,” Sam said. “I’ll make sure of it, okay? If it looks like they’re going to skimp on quality then the deal’s off.”

“Good,” Dean said, finally grinning. “Glad to know we’re on the same page. See ya tomorrow. Call if anything catastrophic happens.”

“WIll do,” Sam promised. “Make good choices.”

Dean, who was walking towards the parking lot, turned and shot his brother a wink. “And why would I do something like that?” Dean could hear his brother laugh as he approached his other baby. His 1967 Impala, a true beauty, sat waiting for him.

The drive from the distillery to his favorite dive was quick, which Dean was thankful for. Nob Hill Bar and Grill was the best bar in the trendy alphabet district, but mostly because it wasn’t fancy or schmancy. It had the multiple televisions and cracked vinyl seats that Dean loved. He parked a block away, and walked towards the bar quickly, trying to bypass the tourists and shoppers. He pushed open the ‘nobby nobby nobby nobby’ door, and waved to Rufus behind the bar.

“Want your usual?” The crotchety old man asked as Dean slipped onto an empty barstool.

“You know it,” Dean said. Rufus nodded and pulled a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue from the shelf. He poured a generous amount into a glass, much more than he would give to anyone who _wasn’t_ a regular, and slid it towards Dean’s waiting hand.

“You got an admirer,” Rufus said, motioning to the tables behind Dean. Dean turned to see that most of the tables were empty, aside from one where a guy was sitting with a book and a glass in his hand. “He’s been makin’ his way through your booze. I was just gonna bring him over a Singer Reserve. Unless you’d like to do the honors?”

Dean laughed. “You tryin’ to wingman me, or something? Cause normally I don’t need anyone’s help gettin’ ass.”

“Don’t be crude, boy,” Rufus snapped. “Just thought you’d like to speak to a fan.”

Dean looked back at the man. He shrugged, it wouldn’t hurt. “Sure, why not?” He downed his shot and held out a hand. Rufus placed two clean glassed in his palm, and pulled down the bottle of Singer Reserve that the bar kept on hand. Dean looked down at the label, smiling at the drawing of a trucker hat. “Put this on my tab, you hear?”

“Do I look stupid to you?” Rufus asked. “It’s already on there.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and wondered why he found grumpy old men so endearing.

He stepped up the few stairs and snaked his way through empty tables to the back booth, where the mystery man was sitting. As he got closer, Dean noticed that the book he was reading was actually a Portland travel guide. Meaning he was a tourist. “Would you like a drink? It’s on me,” Dean said in greeting once he was close enough that the man would hear him.

A head of dark hair lifted, and Dean was not prepared. The man was hot. Like, movie star level hot. The hair, which looked like normal ol' hair from across the room, was actually tousled in that way that was half styled and half bedhead. It framed a tanned face with a plush mouth and a diamond-cut jaw under dark seven o'clock shadow. He also had the brightest, bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. Dean nearly dropped the bottle in his hand when the guys tongue peeked out of his mouth to wet those absolutely fuckable lips.

“That depends on what you’re offering,” the guy said flirtatiously, and damn did his voice make little Dean twitch in big Dean’s pants. It was a deep purr, like a sexed up jungle cat.

“It’s uh, whiskey.” Dean said lamely. “Rufus said you’re a fan of Winchester Brothers.” _Or maybe just this one_ , Dean thought with a blush

“You could say that,” he said. Then he waved a hand at the space next to him. “Join me?”

Dean slipped around the table and took a seat. “I’m Dean,” he said, offering his hand to his companion.

“James, but you can call me Castiel.” He took Dean’s hand and shook it with a grin.

“Castiel, huh?” Dean said. “Sounds like there’s a story behind that. You didn’t find religion or something, did you?”

Castiel threw his head back and laughed, and Dean was overcome with the desire to lick his throat. “No, nothing like that,” Castiel said once he got himself under control. “I was a fairly unruly teenager. I was at a party the weekend before my gradation. I blacked out and woke up a day later in Castiel, Switzerland. The name kind of stuck after that.”

“Wow,” Dean said. “I’m guessing you missed graduation.”

“Oh yeah,” Castiel grinned. “My parents wired me money to get home, but I used it to backpack Europe for about a year instead.”

“Damn, Cas,” Dean said with a laugh. “That takes some serious stones.” Dean poured them each a shot and raised his in the air. Once Castiel did the same, Dean said, “To fuckin’ the man.”

Castiel’s pupils dilated, and he clinked his glass against Dean’s. “To fuckin’ the man, indeed."

* * *

Dean found himself, only a couple hours later, on his knees with his face pressed into an unfamiliar mattress while Castiel plowed into him from behind.

The guy had been badass, and snarky, and had pushed every one of Dean’s buttons. So when he invited Dean back to his Airbnb for a ‘nightcap,’ how was Dean to say no?

The apartment was actually fairly close to the bar, so they decided to walk there. And if they took some shortcuts to grope and kiss in doorways, well, who could blame them? Every time they kissed their stubble would catch like velcro and it was driving Dean wild. When they finally made it, Castiel led them up to the third floor, and practically threw Dean through the door. There was a suitcase just inside the door. Cas must have went to the bar as soon as he arrived.

Once the door was closed and locked Dean was pressed against it and Cas was latching onto his collarbone, sucking a dark mark into his skin. “What do you say we finish this upstairs, and then have that drink?” Castiel asked between nips and kisses to Dean’s skin.

“Sounds awesome,” Dean said with a groan. Castiel made quick work of pulling Dean’s clothes from his body. It felt like one second he was dressed, and the next he was bare-assed naked, and they still hadn’t moved from the front door. Before Dean could complain, not that he would, Cas was dropping to his knees and taking Dean’s hard member into his mouth. “Holy shit, Cas!”

Dean could feel Cas grin around his cock before bobbing deeper, until Dean was all the way down his throat. Already, Dean was close, which he would be embarrassed about if it didn’t feel so damn good.

Castiel worked him expertly, until Dean was coming with a shout. Cas swallowed it all, pulling off with a _pop_ that sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.

“Holy hell, man,” Dean said, voice low and fucked out already.

“And I’m just getting started,” Castiel said with a lascivious grin.

He led Dean to the loft bedroom, and pushed him down on the bed. Dean grabbed at the duvet with both hands when Castiel started to strip, revealing miles of tanned, muscular skin. Once he was naked, he took a moment to look down at Dean and stoke his own cock. Dean groaned as desire pooled in his lower body. “Scoot back,” Castiel ordered gently, and Dean scrambled to obey. Castiel smiled and Dean could practically hear the inaudible, _good boy_.

Dean’s head hit the pillows and Castiel kneeled on the bed. He grabbed both of Dean’s ankles, and set them so his feel were flat on the bed, knees pointing skyward. Then he gently opened them, spreading Dean’s legs wide. “This okay?” He asked. Dean was nodding before he even finished asking the question.

When Castiel’s mouth found Dean’s hole, it was like the world exploded. He licked the rim until it was wet and fluttering. Only then did he push his tongue inside. Dean couldn’t seem to stop the whines and moans he was making, but Cas didn’t seem to care. If anything he worked harder to make Dean loose complete control of his mouth. He added a finger with his tongue, and it was slippery with lube. Dean pushed down onto the intrusion, wiggling his hips until Cas’ finger hit his prostate.

“Fuck yes, right there,” Dean keened. His cock was hard again, and leaking all over his stomach and down onto the pristine white sheets.

Castiel pulled his tongue away, but replaced it with another finger. He began to scissor his fingers, brushing at Dean’s prostate with every other thrust. “You open so beautifully, Dean. I can’t wait to push my way inside.”

“Oh!” Dean moaned. “Do it, do it. Please.”

“Not yet,” Castiel said sternly. “I’m enjoying this.”

He bend down and sucked Dean’s left nipple into his mouth while simultaneously adding a third finger to the two already inside of him.

Dean had never been taken apart like this. Somehow Castiel knew exactly how to touch him, tease him, stimulate him, until he was quaking and coming for a second time, this time with his cock completely untouched.

“Yes! Oh fuck, Castiel! Do it,” Dean said as he flipped around, presenting his ass for the man behind him. “Get fuckin’ in me, already.”

He could hear Castiel chuckle. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

Dean heard the rip of a wrapper, and then the pop of a bottle. Then Cas’ lubed cock was pressing at his hole. The thorough finger fucking and multiple orgasms did their job of loosening him up, so Cas was able to bottom out in one steady push. Castiel hadn’t seemed much bigger than Dean, but he still felt enormous, filling Dean up completely. Castiel kept one hand at Dean’s shoulder, pushing him down, but the other reached around and pressed at the skin below Dean’s navel. Dean could tell the moment Castiel pressed on his own member, because they both groaned at the unexpected feeling. Dean clenched his ass as much as he was able, and Castiel thrust deeper.

“You’re still so tight,” Castiel said. He pulled out then drove back in.

Dean wanted to taunt him, but his mouth was incapable of forming words. He was reduced to moans and groans as Castiel worked up a brutal, glorious rhythm.

Dean would have been happy to stay like this, on his knees getting fucked, for hours. But eventually it got to be too much and he was coming a third time. He felt Castiel’s movements go erratic as he, too, came apart. Dean felt the pulses of come with the condom inside of himself and whined, clenching his ass to keep Cas inside.

Eventually Cas coaxed Dean to relaxing, and pulled free. Without Cas holding him up, Dean collapsed. He heard Cas chuckle, throaty and deep. There was the sound of footsteps, then a sink turned on. A moment later the bed dipped and Castiel brought a warm washcloth to Dean’s skin.

Dean hmm’d in contentment as Castiel cleaned up between his legs and on his belly. Before Cas could disappear again, Dean grabbed at his elbow. “Can I stay?” Dean asked quietly, squinting open one eye so he could see Cas’ face.

Castiel smiled softly and ran a hand down Dean’s flank. “Yes, of course. I’d like the chance to get a second round in before I have to go to a meeting in the morning, if you’re up for it.”

“If I’m up for it? Man you made me come three times. You can have as many rounds as you’d like.” Dean broke off with a yawn and burrowed into the warmth of the bed. There was a tugging underneath his body, and then the duvet was laid on top of him. Castiel slid in behind him, and plastered himself along Dean’s back. His arm snaked around Dean’s waist and settled low on his stomach.

“G’night, Cas,” Dean said sleepily.

He passed out before he could hear Cas’ reply.

* * *

Cas' [Airbnb](https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/11887222?location=Portland%2C%20OR%2C%20United%20States&s=0dkDnXZg)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know the intricacies of how to handle high volume liquor distribution... but lets just pretend I do. :)

When Castiel woke, Dean was still in his bed. They had shifted in sleep, and now Dean dozed with his head pillowed on Castiel’s chest. His hair had gone all fluffy, and tickled Castiel’s nose. Even Dean’s short beard had bed head.

It was adorable.

Castiel wanted so badly to wake the other man up for their second round, but a quick glance at the bedside clock told Castiel that he just didn’t have time. He was supposed to meet Sam Winchester at the distillery at eight, and it was nearly seven thirty. He was already pushing it.

Carefully, like he was defusing a bomb, Castiel slipped out from under his newest lover’s body, slipping a pillow under his face in substitute. Dean’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t wake and Castiel let out a sigh of relief. He tiptoed down to the main level of the apartment where his suitcase still sat, untouched since he arrived.

He unzipped it, and pulled out the outfit that sat on top: a pair of dark wash jeans, a stylish AC/DC t-shirt, and a black blazer. When he first started working with Balthazar at Angelic Liqueur and Spirits he had tried way too hard to dress professionally, until he realized that drinkers really didn’t care. He’d allowed himself to relax since then. He stripped right there in the living room, and redressed quickly. His toothbrush was packed in the inside pocket of his suitcase, so he grabbed that and his toothpaste and brushed his teeth at the kitchen sink.

The clock in the kitchen read seven forty-five. There was no way he would have time for breakfast. He would have to pick something up along the way. Upstairs Dean continued to snore, and Castiel felt a pang of sadness for leaving him. He would have to leave a note.

It took a whole five minutes to find a spare piece of paper, and another to find a pen. He wrote a quick message, thanking Dean for a lovely night and apologizing for having to leave. He signed it with a flourish beneath his phone number. Dean’s clothes were still piled near the door, so Castiel set his note on top of them. 

He pocketed the apartment key, and gave the loft one final look, before racing out of the door.

Castiel had picked this Airbnb specifically because of its proximity to the distillery. But he still felt rushed as he walked into the Dragonfly Coffee House and ordered two black coffees, a kahlua cake, and a cardamom apple cake. He figured if he was going to be a few minutes late, he may as well be late _and_ have treats.

It only took Castiel a few minutes to speed-walk to the distillery. He slowed down once the building was in view, and he found himself switching into work-mode. It was his job to asses the Winchester Brother’s Distillery and ascertain if it would be a lucrative enough business for Angelic Liqueurs and Spirits to ‘get into bed with,’ so to speak.

While the business model and liquor were the most important factors, Castiel also found the physical space to be very telling of how things were run. The industrial district was what you would expect, but the Winchester’s facility stood out. It was clean, painted a buttery yellow, and the main entrance was differentiated by classic red brick. There were large terracotta pots filled with colorful flowers leading up to the front door, and above it the building was painted with the Winchester Brother’s name and logo.

Overall it was an impressive set up. Much better than some of the other breweries and distilleries that Castiel had visited.

He pushed open the front door, and was greeted by a nicely decorated tasting room. The floor was made of artfully poured concrete and there was a natural wood bar along one wall. The other had displays of the Winchester Brother’s whiskeys: The Hunter’s Helper, Devil’s Trap, and Singer Reserve that Castiel tasted among them.

Again, Castiel found himself impressed with the simplistic elegance of the space. He drifted towards another wall covered in photos, when a door opened and stole his attention.

A towering man somehow squeezed himself through a not-so towering door, and was sizing Castiel up with a smile. He was good looking; wearing jeans, a blue button up rolled up to the elbows, and a black beanie. He looked familiar, somehow, but Castiel couldn’t place from where.

“Hi there, how can I help you?” The man asked.

Castiel offered his hand with a pleasant, “Are you Sam Winchester? I’m Castiel Novak with Angelic Liqueur and Spirits. Balthazar told me you would be expecting me?”

The man looked confused for a second, but recovered. “I am Sam. Hi,” he said as he shook Castiel’s hand. “I’m sorry. Balthazar told me a ‘Cassy’ was coming.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and let out a laugh. “I keep telling Balthazar to stop calling me that in company emails, but he seems to find it funny to cause me embarrassment.”

Sam laughed with him. “I can understand. My brother is that way, sometimes.”

“I apologize for being late,” Castiel said, hoping to steer them back towards the reason he was there. “But I did bring coffee and pastries to make up for the wait.”

“Oh thanks, man,” Sam said, taking the coffee Castiel offered. “Why don’t we have these in my office, and then I can give you a tour.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Castiel said. “Lead the way.”

Sam did so with a smile, leading them through the door he appeared in, and up a flight of stairs just beyond it. There was another hallway at the top of the stairs, with two doors on the left and one on the right. Sam lead him to the second door on the left, allowing Castiel to enter first. “This is my office, my brother’s is across the hall. But he’s kind of a slob, so I figured this would be a better place to talk business.” Castiel raised his brow at Sam’s offhanded comment and Sam had to backtrack. “He’s not a total mess! I mean, not where it matters. I promise.”

“No need to have an aneurism, Sam,” Castiel placated gently. “It’s just funny, how clearly you two behave like brothers.”

“Yeah, well,” Sam said with a shrug, “It’s kind of there in the name.” He took a sip of his coffee and reached into the white paper bag for a pastry. “Thanks for this. We make sure to have good coffee in the staff kitchen, but sometimes it just doesn’t cut it. How are you enjoying Portland so far?”

The image of Dean, so willing and eager to get fucked, filled Castiel’s mind and he stammered a quick answer. “It’s nice. The people seem extremely friendly.”

“Yeah, that’s Portland, alright,” Sam said with a laugh.

They small-talked about Castiel’s flight while they ate and drank what Castiel brought. Once the cups were empty and the pastry bag was in the trash, Sam stood. “Well let’s get this tour started. I can show you how we make the product from start to finish, and walk you through our business model. Then you can taste some stock, and talk to employees if you’d like.”

“Is your brother going to be joining us?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, eventually,” Sam said carefully. “Truth be told, he’s less than convinced about this whole thing. If he had his way we would manage a larger distribution in house, but I know that’s not really feasible. I have looked into you guys, and how you run things, and I think this could be a good partnership.”

“So once I convince you, you think you can convince him?” Castiel asked.

“Pretty much,” Sam said. He was grinning, so he seemed pretty confident. “He should be coming in around noon.”

Castiel nodded. He’d dealt with reluctant owners before, but he always managed to turn it around. “Well, lead the way,” Castiel said, standing.

“Yes, of course.” Sam stood as well, and made his way out of the office and back down the stairs. “So you already saw the tasting room,” Sam said, motioning to the door they came through earlier. Instead of going back that way, Sam led them around the corner. The room opened up to a large warehouse, as you would expect from a building in an industrial district.

“Do you handle every aspect of distilling here on site?” Castiel asked. To his left there was a couple of wooden pallets stacked with boxes and wrapped in industrial plastic wrap, and to his right an old fashioned still was set up.

“Definitely, that’s one of the things we’re most proud of. All of our ingredients are grown within a fifty mile radius of the distillery, and then we ferment and age everything here. And we have a team of glassblowers that make all of our bottles as well,” Sam explained as they walked slowly through the warehouse. He pointed out the large column stills, and the small area used for research and development. They bypassed the aging room, and instead stepped outside where the multiple furnaces burned.

There were about fifteen people milling around, chatting and working like a well oiled machine. Off to the side of the workspace sat at least a dozen finished bottles. Castiel wandered over, crouching to get a better look. The craftsmanship was superb, and only the fear of fingerprints stopped him from reaching out to touch. “You can manage the volume needed for your sales?” Castiel asked, still looking at the bottles.

“It’s always a little stressful, but our lead blowers do a great job every week. They have a couple different crews to help us keep up,” Sam explained.

Castiel stood and faced his tour guide. “That’s incredibly impressive Sam,” he complimented.

Sam looked pleased, but embarrassed. He ran his hand up and through his hair, tugging off his hat as he went. He twisted it in his hands, before pulling it back on his head, obscuring his face for a brief second. “Thanks, we’re all really proud of what we make, and we want to showcase it the best way we can. Come on. I saved the best for last.”

Sam stepped back into the main building and towards a heavy wooden door that seemed wholly out of place in the industrial setting. He held the door open for Castiel, and closed the door behind them once they had both stepped over the threshold. The smell was intense, but in such a fantastic way that Castiel couldn’t help but breathe in deeply.

“This is our barrel room,” Sam needlessly explained. “All of our spirits age in here before we can send them out. We use the best oak barrels, as well as some repurposed wine and liqueur barrels.”

Castiel looked down the rows of barrels, impressed. There were at least fifteen rows, that went at least ten barrels deep, and reached up to the ceiling.

“Would you like to taste one?” Sam asked.

“How could I say no?” Castiel asked back with a smile.

Sam led him towards the back of the room, and stopped at a barrel seemingly at random. “This is the Singer Reserve. We named it after our Uncle Bobby. We wouldn’t be able to do this had it not been for him.”

Castiel had tasted this particular whiskey the night before, both in a glass and on Dean’s tongue, and liked it both times. But he was sure this would be an altogether different experience. Sam pulled the large cork out of the barrel, and used a glass baster to pull out a decent amount of golden liquid. He poured it into two glasses, handing one to Castiel but keeping one for himself. Castiel lifted the glass to his nose and inhaled. Peaty and sharp, but with a hint of dark fruit. He went to take a sip when the door at the other end of the room opened with a slam.

“Sammy?” A voice, a _familiar_ voice called. “You back here?”

“Oh, he’s early,” Sam said. He seemed totally oblivious of Castiel’s shock when he yelled, “Dean! We’re back here.”

Castiel knew he only had a few moments to collect himself, so he took a deep breath and stood up straight. He turned just in time to see Dean’s eyes fall on him.

He was just as beautiful as the last time Castiel saw him.

“Dean, this is Castiel with Angelic Liqueur and Spirits,” Sam introduced. For such a smart man, he was pretty blind when it came to recognizing instant sexual tension. “Castiel, this is my older brother, Dean.”

Castiel smirked when Dean shuffled from one foot to the other. “Hello, Dean.”

* * *

When Dean finally pulled himself from sleep, the sun was shining brightly through unfamiliar windows. He tried to turn onto his side, but paused when the ache in his backside made itself known. It wasn’t unwelcome, it was the opposite of that, really. Dean loved the soreness that you were left with after a good fucking. It just meant that he couldn’t sit up like he wanted to. Instead he shimmied out of the bed and into a standing position.

The loft around him was quiet, but he still called, “Cas?” When no response came, he felt a little slighted. After all, wasn’t he promised a round two?

Whatever.

Dean looked down at where his cock was at half-mast, and stroked it in commiseration. “Sorry, buddy.” He said before pulling his hand away. After all, it was impolite to jack off in someone else’s apartment that they were renting from strangers.

He wandered down the stairs, silently thanking God for his bowlegs, because it would be impossible for him to hide his stiff gait.

In the living room the suitcase had been opened, meaning Castiel had left for the day. Dean stepped into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and spotted the toothbrush and toothpaste on the counter. He shrugged, and squeezed some of the toothpaste onto his finger. He used the digit to clean his teeth as well as he could. Once his breath was minty enough, he went in search of his clothes.

He found them, as well as a note, in the living room. Dean picked up the card first, and smiled at Castiel’s neat script.

 

> _DEAN,  
>  _ _I HAD A GREAT TIME LAST NIGHT.  
>  _ _SORRY I HAD TO LEAVE BEFORE WE HAD A ROUND TWO.  
>  _ _I HAVE MEETINGS ALL DAY, BUT CALL ME IF YOU’D LIKE TO GET TOGETHER AGAIN._   
>  9165554256  
>  \--CAS

Dean’s grin pulled wider as he tapped the note on his opposite palm. He set it carefully on the coffee table while he pulled on his clothes from the night before. Once he was dressed he picked up the note again and slipped it in his back pocket.

He gave the apartment one final glance as he stepped out of the front door.

Cas’ airbnb was surprisingly close to the distillery, but Dean had to backtrack back to the bar to get his Baby. He didn’t trust his baby around the damn terrible parkers that visited 23rd to shop. He’d seen too many near accidents in his time. He found himself whistling as he walked, pleased with how his night turned out.

He hadn’t expected such an explosive evening, but it turned out being just what Dean needed to get out of his funk. Maybe he could deal with this Cassy chick now that he was good and relaxed.

Thankfully his baby was unharmed when he reached her. He gave her hood a little pat in greeting before slipping behind the driver’s seat. AC/DC played through Baby’s speakers during the short drive to the distillery. He drove around the back of the building and parked his car near the glassblowers.

“Hey, Winchester!” Jo called to him as soon as Dean stepped out of the car. Dean turned towards the feisty blonde, and she just grinned at him. “So? Is someone going to tell us who’s this hottie Sam’s showing around?”

“That’s need to know, Joanna Beth!” Dean told her. “Where are they anyway?”

“Hell if I know,” Jo said. “My guess is the barrel room.”

Dean shot her a thumbs up and pushed open a door the distillery. He took a moment to check in with Charlie, where the tech was monitoring the batches they were fermenting. “How’re things, red?” Dean asked her, while he plucked out one of her white earbuds.

“All’s good, handmaiden,” Charlie said with a grin. “You going to find Sam?”

“Yeah.” Dean pointed at the wooden door to the barrel room with a thumb over his shoulder. “Did you see them go in?”

“Just a couple minutes ago,” Charlie said. “I’d call dibs on that one, boss, before someone else scoops ‘em up.”

“You know I’m a professional, Char,” Dean said with an exaggerated eye roll. “I’m not gonna fuck where I eat.”

Dean gave her a quick hug and walked towards the barrel room. But not before he heard Charlie whisper a quiet, “We’ll see about that,” under her breath. Dean chose to ignore her.

“Sammy? You back here?” Dean called once the barrel room door was closed behind him.

“Dean! We’re back here,” Sam yelled back from the other end of the room. He was hidden behind some of the barrels. Dean would bet his left nut that Sam was letting the rep taste some of the Singer Reserve. It was their crowning jewel after all.

Dean turned the corner and saw none other than fucking _Castiel_ standing with his brother, looking criminally hot in laid back business casual.

Fuck if his cock didn’t take notice. He shimmied from one foot to the other, trying to calm it down. Sam’s mouth was moving, so he was obviously trying to introduce them, but all Dean could pay attention to was Cas. Then the fucker opened his mouth.

“Hello, Dean,” he said like he hadn’t had his tongue in Dean’s asshole twelve hours earlier.

“But Cassy?” Dean found himself asking.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “My cousin finds it amusing to use overly familiar nicknames in company emails. I’ve spoken with him about it multiple times, because this sort of thing happens.”

“Huh,” Dean said. Sam was starting to give him weird looks, so Dean forced his eyes away from his walking wet dream. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

Sam raised a brow, and made a point to look down at his watch. “It’s only ten. I wasn’t expecting you for another couple hours.”

“We’re just getting started,” Castiel said, just like the night before, somehow with a straight fucking face.

Dean’s cock jumped again, and he knew he was going to be in trouble in a second. “Oh fuck me,” he whispered, but not soft enough apparently, if Castiel’s smirk said anything. Without thinking Dean pointed a finger at him and snapped, “Shut up! Not like that!”

“Dean!” Sam balked. “Castiel, I apologize for my brother. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“Don’t worry, Sam,” Castiel said. “Maybe Dean just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Dean groaned and covered his face with both hands. “Sam, can you just take Cas to your office? I need to deal with something real quick.”

Before he could get a response Dean turned and practically ran through the warehouse and up to his office. He leaned back against the closed door and flicked the lock. “Fucking hell,” Dean said to himself. He was throbbing in his jeans, and had to rub the heel of his hand on his flushed member to relive some of the pressure.

There was no way he was going to get through the day, without taking care of himself first.

He stumbled to his desk, collapsed into his chair, and dropped his head down onto his desk with a thump. He scooted forward until he was on the edge of his seat and popped open his jeans with nimble fingers. His hand reached into his boxers and he started to stroke himself with his face still pressed into the cold wood of his desk.

Fuck, he was in trouble. It would be one thing if he’d just met Cas for the first time today, and realized how hot he was. But no, he had to see him, knowing how wonderfully he played Dean’s body like a fucking harp. So now, when he stroked himself and imagined getting his mouth on the other man, he knew exactly what he could expect.

He knew the other man liked to take charge, so if Dean were to blow him in, say, the barrel room he now knew that Castiel would have no problem pushing him to his knees and shoving his dick down Dean’s throat.

Dean moaned, and his dick leaked just thinking about it.

Cas would look down at Dean, eyes bright with lust, and Dean would look up with his mouth full. He’d love the feeling of being owned.

Dean was close to coming when there was a knock at the door.

“Don’t fucking come in here, Sam!” Dean yelled, immediately taking his hand off his cock.

“I’m not. Jeez, Dean. What’s wrong with you?” Sam asked through the office door.

“Nothing! Fuck, just go. I’ll find you when I’m finished here.” Dean listened as his brother huffed a sigh, and said something, to Cas probably. Once Dean heard the sound of another door opening and closing he felt safe taking himself back in hand.

It only took a few more tugs, with the image of Cas fucking his face in his mind, before be was coming onto the cheap carpet beneath his desk.

Dean let out a shaky breath. “I’m really fucked,” he swore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for Dean getting all flustered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the absolute worst. I meant to post this chapter way earlier than now, but my last few months have been crazy busy. That on top of writers block has made it almost impossible to get down. I think I'm over the worst of it though.

Watching Dean run away, practically bowling over a young redhead in the process, sobered Castiel considerably.

Okay. He pushed too far, he could see that now.

Whenever he starts a job his main goal is always to think of his company first, and be a professional. Granted, a certain level of professionalism flies out the window when you know that someone shaves their asshole, but that wasn't the point. The point was he shouldn’t have teased Dean.

“Castiel, I am truly sorry for my brother,” Sam was saying emphatically. “I have no idea what is wrong with him.”

“Sam, don’t worry about it,” Castiel tried to ensure the other man. “I don’t take it personally. Why don’t we go to your office and talk over the specifics of your production and finances.”

The younger Winchester seemed embarrassed still, so Castiel tried to be as straightforward as possible. Sometimes that can help. Sam finally nodded, and with a quiet, “follow me,” led Castiel back to his office. On the way he knocked on the door that he said lead to Dean’s office.

Dean’s voice immediately called back, “Don’t fucking come in here, Sam!”

Sam seemed to flush with embarrassment anew. “I’m not. Jeez, Dean. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing! Fuck, just go. I’ll find you when I’m finished here.”

Castiel tried not to image what he thought was happening in that room, and failed miserably.

“Can we please ignore what just happened?” Sam said quietly.

“Of course,” Castiel assured the other man. Sam sagged in relief and opened his own office door, ushering Castiel into the small room.

Sam seamlessly transitioned from flustered younger brother to businessman. He pulled out an already composed file, and passed it across the desk. “I pulled some records as soon as I knew we were going to be meeting. There’s a simple breakdown of yields, and profits. I threw some more detailed spreadsheets in there as well, but I figured the simple ones could give you a good idea to start with.”

Castiel skimmed the sheet once, then went back to reread it more thoroughly. “I know I’ve already said it, but these numbers are impressive.”

Sam hid his pleased blush by standing, and walking around his desk in order to take a seat in the chair beside Castiel. “Do you think that Angelic would be willing to discuss a partnership with us?” Sam asked.

“I never like to speak to soon, and make promises that I can’t keep,” Castiel said. He closed the file and set it in his lap, crossing his hands on top of it. “That being said, these numbers are extremely promising. I will have to talk to the other executives, as you probably know, but I think they could be convinced to see what I see.”

Sam sagged with relief, and gave Castiel a beaming smile. “That’s…” Sam paused and ran his hands through his shaggy hair. “That’s great news.”

“It’s not set in stone,” Castiel reminded.

“No, no, I know that,” Sam said quickly. “But, uh, it’s still good. I won’t get my hopes up, I promise.”

Castiel nodded at the other man sagely. And Castiel was glad that he was able to speak the truth. He honestly believed that Angelic would love to work with the Winchesters. He would sign them immediately, but it wasn’t that simple. Though he could give Balthazar a heads up. His cousin would be able to get the ball rolling back at his headquarters. “I’m glad. Before we go on, I need to make a quick call.”

“No problem,” Sam said. “If you go down the hallway past Dean’s door to the end there’s a door that leads to an observation deck.”

“Thank you, Sam. I’ll only be a moment.” Castiel set the file on the younger Winchester’s desk, and stood. He gave him another nod before ducking out of the office.

Castiel planned to walk right past Dean’s office door, but stopped in his tracks when he heard a particularly familiar moan through the flimsy pine door. _Oh, God_. It was just as delicious as Castiel remembered it. He told himself to ignore it, to walk past the door and make his call. But instead he found himself knocking on the door softly.

“I told you I’d come find you, Jesus!” Dean called, sounding breathless and fucked out.

“Dean,” Castiel replied, finding his voice was deeper than he expected, “It’s me. Can I come in?”

Castiel didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe to get cursed out, maybe to get ignored. Instead he heard the soft _click_ of the door unlocking. Castiel took a deep, fortifying breath, before pushing the door open.

Dean didn’t go far. He was leaning against the desk, facing Castiel, and wiping his hands on a napkin. There was really no disguising what he had just done, so he didn’t even try. His cheeks were ruddy, and his eyes were shining with a post-orgasmic glow. Not to mention that the whole room smelled like sex. Dean seemed fine to let them stew in silence. Castiel, on the other hand, was not.

“I wanted to apologize, Dean,” Castiel said. He found himself longing to close the distance between them, but hadn’t earned that right yet.

“What for?” Dean asked, voice sharp. “For leaving me this morning? Or making me pop a boner in the middle of my place of business?”

Castiel let his eyes rake over Dean’s face, because it was impossible to tell if he was angry, embarrassed, upset, or just took pleasure in messing with Castiel. He cleared his throat, suddenly awkward. “Both?”

“Don’t sound too sure there, Cas,” Dean said. Castiel continued to watch him and was rewarded by seeing the slight twitch of Dean’s lips. “Leaving like that... kinda hurts a guy’s feelings.”

“I assure you that was never my intention.” Castiel took a hesitant step forward. Dean didn’t seem bothered. “I didn’t realize how little time I would have in the morning before this meeting.”

“Ah, yeah. Kinda wish I’d known what you were in town for,” Dean said.

“To be fair, you didn’t tell me about your job either,” Castiel interjected. “And looking back I’m glad I didn’t. I wouldn’t have let myself take you to bed if I’d known.”

“And now that you do?” Dean asked. His eyes had that kind of hopeful gleam to them, and Castiel was drawing on them for courage.

He shrugged. “Now I figure there’s nothing stopping me from asking you out to dinner.”

Dean grinned before throwing his head back with a laugh. “Yeah, alright. I’d like that, Cas.” Then Dean groaned. “I should probably apologize to Sammy before he kills me for ruinin’ our chance of working with you guys.”

“Yes, that would probably be best,” Cas said with a smile. “Though, for the record, I found your fumbling quite charming.”

“I normally don’t _fumble_ ,” Dean snarked. “ _Someone_ just had fun baiting me like an asshole.”

Castiel didn’t have a defense, so he shrugged, which made Dean laugh again. The way he threw back his head elongated his neck, and the thick tendons that still held the faint marks Castiel left the night before. Castiel watched as he composed himself; rubbing a hand down his face and over his trim beard. He was overcome with the need to kiss that smiling mouth, so he found himself asking, “May I kiss you, Dean?”

Dean seemed pleased, if a little embarrassed, but he still nodded his consent. Castiel closed the final few feet between them, and used both hands to pull Dean’s face towards his own. Their lips met chastly, which was a nice contradiction to their last encounter, and Castiel pulled back before it could progress any farther. “I still need to make a call. If you want to go into Sam’s office, I’ll only be a few minutes behind you.

Dean nodded, somewhat dazed, and turned to walk out of the office. Castiel followed, pausing just past the threshold to watch as Dean looked around briefly, before ripping a corner off a notice stapled to the wall. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door to Sam’s office hesitantly, waving the little paper in the room first, before stepping inside. It took Castiel a moment to understand, and when he did it made him chuckle.

* * *

Dean waved his version of a flag of surrender, with a tentative. “Is it safe for me to come in?”

Sam just huffed. But it wasn’t a no, so Dean figured he wasn’t walking to his own death. Sam was looking at his with a bitch-face fitting the occasion. Because, as far as Sam knows, Dean nearly blew their deal. “I’m sorry, Sam,” Dean said, plopping himself down in a chair across from his brother. “I know you think-”

“I think?” Sam whisper-screeched.

“ _I know you think_ that I ruined this, but you don’t know all the facts, okay?” Dean said. Sam huffed again, like a pissed off moose, and waved his hand with an silent order to, _‘tell me then.’_ “Okay, so, I got upset with Cas cause he was teasing me. About last night.”

“Last night?” Sam asked.

Dean plastered a shit-eating grin on his face, and began to explain. “I went to Nob’s last night, and saw this hot dude drinking our shit-”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Dean. You didn’t. Don’t tell me you-”

Dean found a sick thrill in the shock on his brother’s face. “So we drank a bunch, then he invited me back to his airbnb, things got a little acrobatic-”

“I don’t need details, Dean! _Jesus_ ,” Sam yelled. He lifted his hands in a way that told Dean he was willing to cover his ears like a toddler if Dean continued.

“Anyway, cut to his morning when I wake up alone, kinda pissed cause the guy said we could go again in the morning.” Dean shrugged, and giggled when Sam actually covered his ears with both hands. He waited patiently until Sam removed his hands. Once he did, Dean continued, “So imagine my surprise when I come here and see the sexy son of a bitch in the barrel room. So he teased me, and I overreacted. We’ve talked about it, he swears what happened in his bed won’t affect the deal, and we’re going out again tonight. So, that’s everything. We good?”

Sam opened and closed his mouth more times than Dean had ever seen outside of the Newport Aquarium, before finally saying, “You’re gonna go out again?”

“We figured we already did, so where’s the harm?” Dean said with another shrug. “Plus the dude’s a wildcat in the sack, and it would be a crime to not take another ride.”

“Dean!” Sam screeched with some kind of teenager, just as there was a knock at the door. Castiel entered the office, raising an eyebrow at Dean’s leer and Sam’s beet red face.

“Am I interrupting something?” Castiel asked.

“Nope,” Dean said, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously. So he was in a good mood. Sue him.

Sam cleared his throat and gave Dean a look that made him glad there was a desk between his shin and Sam’s monstrous foot. “How did the phone call go?” His brother asked, deciding that ignoring Dean was the best option.

“It went well,” Castiel said, taking the seat next to Dean. “Balthazar trusts my judgement, but believes, as do I, that I will need to observe procedure for a few more weeks before I can make a final decision.”

“You’re kinda hot when you talk like a textbook,” Dean whispered, though clearly not quiet enough if Sam’s glare was anything to go by.

“Not the time, Dean,” Cas chastised, but he was fighting a grin. “Sam, would you like to take me through your profit margins?”

“Alright, that’s my cue,” Dean said as he raised himself out of his chair. “I’ll leave you two to your nerd talk. I’m gonna go down to R&D for a bit.”

And because he couldn’t help himself Dean dropped a hand to Castiel’s shoulder, squeezing the tight coil of muscle there, before he turned to leave. He was rewarded by Cas giving him a quick wink, before he focused his attention back on Sam and their boring-as-shit paperwork.

Dean made his way down to the main production floor, and turned towards the small area they set aside for Dean’s experimenting. He had Bobby’s old still set up for this exact purpose. And as much as he wanted to put in his headphones and start messing with some grains, he needed to find Charlie first.

If she was following her regular schedule, as she always did, she would be taking her late morning coffee break right about now. There was a break room just off the tasting room, but Charlie wouldn’t be in it. He walked outside, past the blowing tent, and towards the parking lot. As he suspected, he spotted Charlie right away, wandering the lot with her phone in one hand and her coffee cup in the other.

“Find anything?” Dean called once he was a few feet away.

“Just another Rattata,” she said, finger flicking her phone screen. “They’re everywhere.”

Dean rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Hey, kiddo, I wanted to apologize for bowling you over earlier. I always say that we shouldn’t act foolishly on the floor, and I kinda did.”

“No worries, Winchester. You know I’m agile, like a cat,” Charlie said before meowing in what was meant to me a sexy way.

“Please don’t do that,” Dean said with a laugh.

“What spooked ya?” Charlie asked, finally putting her phone back in her pocket.

“Can you keep a secret?” Dean whispered conspiratorially as he took a step closer to his friend. Charlie nodded immediately. “The guy that’s here? We met at Nob’s last night and we spent the night _in flagrante delicto_. He was just teasing me about it, and I didn’t handle it well. But it’s cool now.”

Charlie was grinning like the cat that got the cream. “I knew he was your type. Can’t hide anything from me, bossman.”

“Yeah, whatever, kid,” Dean said, nudging his friend with a grin. “Wanna help me mix up somethin’ new?”

“Always!” Charlie cheered. She slung her arm around Dean’s shoulder, forcing him to slump over comically, and led him back to the warehouse.

* * *

Castiel and Sam went through the profit margins of the Winchester Brothers Distillery, while Castiel mentally compared it to some of the other companies he’s worked with. And, like with most things Winchester related, he can’t help by be impressed. By the time they went over the last page in the document Sam had compiled, it was nearing five in the evening, and he was wondering where the day went. Around noon they called out for lunch, Sam making sure to order enough for the crew that was on-site. Castiel had wondered if Dean would show himself for the break, but he remained absent.

Sam, regardless of his apparent embarrassment with his brother, was nothing but professional with Castiel. But Castiel still felt that he had to make the younger Winchester a promise, if they were going to move forward.

“I know I have said it before, but these are truly impressive numbers, Sam,” Castiel said. He straightened the pile of papers by tapping them on the desk a few times, then set them aside. “I think that has been enough work for today.”

Sam yawned, and pulled off his beanie, then ran his fingers through his long hair. “We’ve worked hard to be where we are. I’m glad you can recognize that.”

“Yes, it’s obvious in everything that you and your brother do,” Castiel agreed. “Now, I believe we can metaphorically _clock out_ , so to speak, yes? Because I would like to tell you something, on a more personal level.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Shoot,” Sam said unsurely.

“I just want to promise you that whatever has happened, or may happen, between your brother and me will have absolutely no bearings on how I conduct my business here.”

“ _Oh jeez,_ ” Sam groaned.

“Had I known last night I wouldn’t have allowed myself to engage in the-” Sam grimaced, “ _activities_ that we did. But now?” Castiel paused and shrugged. “But if you are still uncomfortable with it, I can ask Balthazar to come down, and he can handle with the relationship between our two companies.”

Sam looked… touched by Castiel offer to recuse himself. He studied Castiel for a minute, before sighing. “You don’t have to do that, Castiel. I can tell that you take this stuff seriously. And… Dean seems weirdly invested. So I’m fine with it. Really.”

Castiel grinned. “Good. I’m glad.”

As if summoned, there was a knock at the door and Dean stepped into the office. “Are you guys done yet? I got a date.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, jerk. We’re done.”

“Awesome,” Dean said with a grin. He reached for Castiel’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Bye, bitch,” he called over his shoulder as he dragged Castiel out of the office. Once in the hallway he dropped Castiel’s hand, but he did wrap an arm around his shoulders. “So, do you know where you’re takin’ me?”

Castiel laughed. “I have a feeling you know I don’t. Any suggestions?”

“That depends. You like burgers?” At Castiel’s nod Dean went on. “Are you a classic burger guy or a boujie burger guy?”

“Either?” Castiel said.

Dean grinned. “Well you’re no help. Alright, fine. I guess I’ll make all the decisions in the relationship.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but found he liked this teasing side of Dean. They made their way out of the distillery quickly. Dean waved to the crew of glass blowers that had taken over for the earlier shift. Then they were in the parking lot and Dean was opening the passenger side door to a large black Chevy.

Once Castiel was settled, Dean closed the door and jogged around to the drivers side. He inserted the key into the ignition, and the car roared to life.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Castiel asked as Dean guided them out of the lot and onto the highway.

Dean grinned over at him and grabbed at Castiel’s left hand, entwining their fingers together. “Nope. That’s what you get for not giving me any ideas earlier.”

Castiel relaxed into the bench and decided to just go with it. He found he trusted Dean, maybe more than he should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully it was worth the wait.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time, but I just really wanted to get this out there. Hope it's worth it!

Dean guided the black Chevy onto the road and towards I-405. Rush hour in Portland was always brutal, especially trying to cross the river any time after four o’clock, but he managed to make it to I-84 without killing anyone. It helped that he could turn his head and see Castiel in the passenger seat. 

He  _ really _ liked the fact that fate brought Cas to the distillery. Because there was something about him that definitely drew Dean in. Part of that was definitely the sex. He wasn’t lying to Sam when he called Cas a wildcat. Cause he was. But there was more to it than that. While Castiel did embarrass him, there was a little part of Dean that enjoyed the tease. He liked that Cas could be witty and provoke him, and then turn around and be sweet and maybe a little abashed.

Dean no delusions that this was anything more than just a fling. Cas was only in town for business after all. But he was still pretty determined to milk it for all it’s worth.

Traffic had slowed considerably, but Dean could see their exit just ahead. Thank Christ. He loved his city but sometimes all the people just got to him.

“So where are you taking me?” Castiel asked just as Dean pulled off at 33rd and turned left.

“Takin’ you to get the best burger in the country,” Dean said with a grin. Cas raised an eyebrow in question, and Dean added, “I swear, there’s a  [ video ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgJflgQEQp4) about it and everything.”

It only took another ten minutes to get to the restaurant. He parked along the street and took in the rough exterior and could  _ feel _ Cas’ skepticism. “Just trust me, man.”

Dean held open Stanich’s door for Cas then followed him in. Castiel stopped just past the threshold and was taking in the hundreds of college pennants covering the walls. It was fairly quiet for dinner time, so Dean took Cas by the elbow and pulled him to a nearby L-shaped booth. He watched with a grin as Cas tried to find a comfortable seat. “I feel like you’re playing a joke on me,” he said once he finally stopped fidgeting.

Dean rolled his eyes good naturedly and handed him a laminated menu. “I recommend the cheeseburger.”

Castiel  _ still _ seemed skeptical when a tall, lanky guy approached their table. “Howdy! You two need a few more minutes?”

“I’m good,” Dean said with a grin. “Cas?”

“I’ll just get whatever you’re getting,” his date replied.

“I think two Nick’s burgers and a couple buds’ll do us,” Dean told the waiter.

“Coming right up!” The guy said cheerfully. “Name’s Garth. Holler if you need anything.”

“Thanks, man,” Dean said. And then the guy disappeared and Dean turned back to Cas. “I swear, you’ll feel like a fool for doubtin’ me. So, how long’ve you been workin’ for Angelic?”

They made small talk while they waited for their food. And even though it was nothing of substance, Dean found himself hanging on every word. Cas spoke with such conviction, even when talking about something as mundane as his home in Sacramento. Dean could tell he was the kind of person who just  _ cared _ . About everything.

Dean had noticed he had this kind of intense focus when they fucked, but he didn’t know it would translate so well into the real world.

It was refreshing.

Their food arrived, carrying with it a cloud of delicious smells. Grilled onions and melted cheese and grease.

“Dig in, boys!” Garth said as he dropped the baskets.

Hunger lit up Castiel’s face and he wasted no time in taking a monstrous bite. He moaned. “Oh  _ God _ . You’re right, I should have trusted you,” he said with his mouth full, but Dean wasn’t even mad. Watching Cas eat with like a religious experience.

Dean took a bite of his own burger and shifted in his seat, trying to calm down his rapidly hardening cock.

They didn’t really talk as they ate. Instead Castiel made appreciative noises with every bite, and Dean tried not to come in his pants. Again. He wondered if Cas knew how much of an effect he was having on him. Dean finished his beer with half a burger to go, and waved the empty bottle at Garth, silently asking for a second. Then he saw that Castiel’s beer was empty too, and held up two fingers. Garth saluted him and brought a couple more bottles to their table.

“So, Dean,” Castiel said casually while running his fingers up and down the fresh bottle in a decidedly  _ not _ casual way. “Is there a second stop on this date?”

“Well, we could find some dive and get a couple drinks,” Dean suggested. “Or we could have a, what did you call it? A  _ nightcap _ back  at my place.”

Castiel took a contemplative sip of his beer, without taking his eyes off Dean. “I think I’d like that very much.”

“Awesome,” Dean said with a grin.

They finished their burgers and beers quickly sharing hot, secretive smiles between bites. Once they were finished Dean signaled Garth for the bill.

The server brought the bill over and Dean checked it before pulling out a couple twenties and leaving them on the table. “Let’s get out of here.”

They managed to keep their hands to themselves as they ran to the car, but as soon as they were closed in the cab Castiel was sliding as close as he dared, and placed his hand high on Dean’s thigh. He squeezed and Dean felt his dick twitch. “It’s fifteen minutes to my place. Don’t make me crash,” he warned.

“Scouts honor,” Castiel swore before sliding his hand up to squeeze the bulge in Dean’s pants. But before Dean could scold him, Castiel withdrew and slid back to his side of the bench seat.

Somehow, Dean it made it home in ten minutes. It had to be some kind of record.

Dean lived in a houseboat in north Portland, just off marine drive, and he would take a little more time showing Cas around the docks if he wasn’t so desperate to get his pants off. Castiel pushed him against his front door, and licked into his mouth while Dean fumbled with his keys. “I like your house,” he said into the hollow of Dean’s throat.

“Thanks,” Dean answered. He finally managed to get the right key and pushed Castiel just far enough away that he was able to get the door unlocked. “Come on. Bedroom’s this way.”

Dean made sure the front door got locked before grabbing Cas’ hand and leading him through the house. His bedroom was fairly bare, with a four-poster bed and one bedside table. Cas didn’t seem to mind. He only had eyes for Dean.

“What do you want, Dean?” He asked as he slipped the blazer off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “Do you want me to fuck you again? Do you want to fuck  _ me _ ?”

Dean moaned. “Oh fuck yes. I wanna fuck you, Cas. Can I?”

Castiel grinned and nodded. He pulled his t-shirt off and then undid his jeans. Those dropped to the floor beside his blazer. His boxer briefs were tented obscenely and Dean licked his lips. Castiel grinned wickedly. “I have an idea. Strip, and lay back on the bed.”

Dean rushed to comply. In what felt like second that were still to long, Dean was naked and crawling into position.

“Lube? Condoms?” Castiel asked. Dean scrambled to get the things they would need from the bedside table, then settled back against the pillows. Only then did Castiel strip out of his boxers and start to crawl on his knees up Dean’s body. When his knees bracketed Dean’s waist he bent down and brought their lips together in a filthy kiss. Dean let Cas dominate his mouth, because he was  _ so good _ at it. Every few moments he would thrust upwards, but Cas’ body was just out of reach. It was both frustrating and tantalizing.

After a solid ten minutes of just making out Cas pulled back. He gave Dean a smoldering look, then crawled a little further up, until his knees were on either side of Dean’s ears. His cock was only inches from Dean’s mouth and he realized  _ hell yeah _ he wanted to taste that.

“I thought you could open me up, while your mouth kept me nice and warm. Would you like that?”

Dean moaned, because this was without a doubt the hottest thing that had ever happened to him, and opened his mouth. Cas got up on his knees and braced himself on the headboard before pushing his hips forward. His cock slid into Dean’s mouth like it  _ belonged _ there. Dean hollowed his cheeks and Castiel began to thrust shallowly. “Is this okay?” Dean gave a thumbs up in answer. “Good. The lube’s by your other hand.”

Dean grabbed for it and popped the cap. He drizzled enough to coat two of his fingers and moved the back to Cas’ crack. His hole fluttered when touched by his fingertips. Dean pressed with one finger, until Cas’ body opened up and allowed the digit inside. Cas moaned at the intrusion and thrust just a little bit deeper into Dean’s mouth.

Dean took his time stretching the other man’s hole until he was pushing in with three fingers. His other hand alternated between tweaking his nipples and fondling his balls.

Cas seemed content to just live with his cock in Dean’s mouth. There were a couple times where Dean swore he was about to come, but he always managed to stop it. Dean respected his self control. He knows he would never have lasted his long.

Cas had also kept up a running commentary of praise, both for Dean’s mouth and his fingers. The filthy, beautiful words were making him so hard it was almost painful. But he kept reminding himself that he would soon be buried in Cas’s silky heat and it would all be worth it.  

“I think I’m ready,” Castiel said, “I want to ride you.”

Dean groaned and nodded as much as he was able.

Castiel pulled his cock free and started to scoot down, bending once more to fit their mouths together. When he pulled away he straightened up the turned around so his back was facing Dean. “I like it this way. Is that okay?”

“Yes. Fuck, Cas, however you want,” Dean said. His hand ran up and down Cas’ exposed back, over the wings of his shoulders and down to the twin dimples in his lower back. Cas rubbed his ass along Dean’s cock, and that spurred Dean into action. He grabbed the string of condoms from the bed and ripped one open, rolling it down his length. Then he added an extra layer of lube. With his clean hand he grabbed Cas by the waist and guided him down.

He watched, transfixed, as his cock disappeared inside Cas’ body. He’d done the reverse cowgirl thing with women before, but the view had never been anything like this.  He could feel where Cas’ nails were digging into his thighs and it was adding a whole other layer to how fucking hot this all was.

“You opened me up so well, Dean,” Cas commented once he was fully seated. “So perfectly. You feel so amazing inside of me.”

“Jesus, Cas.” Dean’s hands were still gripping Cas’ hips, but he was able to use his thumbs to pull apart his cheeks just enough to see where they were joined. “You gonna move anytime soon?”

Cas just wiggled his hips. “Eventually. I like this, though. There is something so wonderful about being full, don’t you think?” He didn’t give Dean a chance to answer before swiveling his hips again, making Dean groan. “And I like holding you inside. Feels warm, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, so hot.” Dean had never done cock warming like this. He couldn’t help thinking that if he liked it this way, he’d probably like it the other way too. He could just imagine lying with Cas, with his cock just casually filing him.

Next time, he promised himself.

Just as Dean was getting comfortable with this status quo, he felt Cas tense beneath his hands and then the other man was pushing himself to his knees. The hot slide of Cas along Dean’s cock was incredible. He pulled almost all the way off before sliding back down.

He kept up a steady pace. It wasn’t brutal or bruising, but it was firm and  _ everything _ Dean had ever wanted.

Dean kept Cas’ cheeks spread so he could see they movements of their bodies.

God, Dean had no idea how he hadn’t come. It was a fucking miracle.

Cas sped up, and Dean moaned his approval. Cas started to let out little whimpers with every thrust, and Dean imagined he was hitting the other man’s prostate. “You close, Cas? Think you can come just like this?”

“Oh yes, I definitely can,” Cas said breathily. “You’re body is made for this, Dean. Made to make me feel incredible.”

“I wanna see you come, Cas,” Dean said, suddenly desperate to see the other man’s face.

Cas pulled off and turned around, then somehow spun them over so he was on his back and Dean was over him. With a grin Cas lifted both of his legs, not stopping until they were resting on Dean’s shoulders. “Fuck me, Dean.”

Dean grinned something feral and affectionate. He grabbed his dick at the base and lined up once more, before moving into Cas’ body with one smooth push. He was so open that Dean was able to start thrusting right away. From this angle he could really pound into Cas’ body, but he maintained their earlier rhythm; firm and slow and perfect.

Cas had his head thrown back and Dean took the opportunity to bend down at nip at the exposed skin. He lapped at the sweat collecting in Cas’ collarbone, then found his mouth. Their kisses were sweet and filthy, until they were both so close to the edge they were just wanting into each other’s mouths.

Dean grabbed Cas by the ass and lifted him just enough and Cas cried out, and then he was coming untouched between their bellies. It was so obscenely hot that Dean had no choice but to follow, coming hard into the condom. Dean carefully removed Cas’ legs from his shoulder before collapsing on his partner.l

They laid in silence, catching their breath.

“Fuck,” Dean finally said. “That was awesome.”

Cas hmm’d in agreement. His hands were gliding over Dean’s sweaty back, and it probably should feel disgusting, but it didn’t.

Dean shifted to the side and his soft cock slipped out of Cas’ body. He pulled off the condom and tied it before dropping it off the edge of the bed. He gave Cas a kiss to the shoulder and whispered, “Be right back,” against his skin.

He went quickly to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. He wet it wish warm water and took it back to his room. Cas still hadn’t moved. He had a blissed out expression on his face and it made Dean proud to have been the one to put it there. He wiped down Cas’ chest, then his own before dropping the washcloth on the ground near the condom.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Dean said as he attempted to pull the blanket down. Cas groaned but complied. He allowed Dean to pull the covers over him before opening his arms for Dean to crawl into. Dean did so willingly, snuggling into Cas’ warmth. 

“Night, Cas,” Dean said with a yawn. When he looked up Cas was already asleep. He was smiling, and Dean mirrored it, before allowing himself to drop off into a sated sleep. 

Best. Night. Ever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Portland traffic freaking sucks. Also if you're ever get the chance you really should go to Stanich's. It's delicious. 
> 
> Dean's [houseboat](https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/19601649?location=Portland%2C+OR%2C+United+States)

**Author's Note:**

> All places are real, most people have been replaced with Supernatural characters.  
> 
> 
> p.s. I've wanted Castiel introduce himself that way for years. Finally did it!


End file.
